


The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

by smolqueernerds



Category: Rock and Riot (Webcomic)
Genre: Clyde is unrealistically chill at certain points, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kaley is a walking ball of snark, M/M, terrible analogies abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolqueernerds/pseuds/smolqueernerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which everyone realizes they're in love, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

For Gene, it happens slowly, so slowly it takes him years to realize what's happening.  
The first day it hits him, he's out racing bikes with Clyde, both of them dreaming of the day when they'll race cars instead. Clyde lets him win about half the time, but today he pulls ahead unrepentantly, though he does pedal most of the way to make it look like he has to try. When he coasts the last ten feet past the old apple tree that has been designated the finish line, Clyde lets out a whoop that scares a pair of bluebirds out of its branches and does a swift, haphazard swerve around its trunk to face Gene as he approaches.  
Clyde's hair is wind-mussed (oh, those strange yet adorable days before hair gel), cheeks flushed just slightly, eyes bright and smile wide with a ridiculous and petty joy, and he's so beautiful that Gene nearly falls off his bike.  
Oh, he thinks, first with confusion, then with embarrassment, then with resignation. Oh.  
Then he really does fall off his bike, because apparently he can't pedal and experience earth shattering revelations at the same time, and Clyde is running toward him before he even hits the ground, shouting in alarm, hands outstretched to help him.  
No wonder I love you, Gene thinks, just before he lands heavily on the gravel path.

For Clyde, it happens fast, so fast that it takes someone else to help him see what's going on.  
"Did you ever actually like me?" his then-girlfriend Kaley asks without preamble, as they're sitting in her car in the drive-in watching one of the horror movies that she likes, even though Clyde kind of hates them and so does Gene.  
"What are you talking about?" Clyde asks. "Of course I like you."  
Kaley rolls her big, expressive eyes. "Maybe at one point, yeah, but not anymore. Not enough. Look, I'm not really mad or anything, but it's been three weeks and I was kind of hoping you'd have the guts and the basic decency to break up with me."  
"What's been three weeks? What are you talking about?" Clyde is lost.  
"You're hopeless," Kaley says, and begins counting on her fingers. "Three weeks since you started blowing off half our dates and inviting your nerd crush along for the rest. He seems nice and all, but if you want to date him, do it yourself and don't make me third wheel."  
Clyde opens his mouth to say something in protest---anything---but nothing comes out.  
"Anyway," Kaley concludes, "I give you and Curly the Nerd my blessing, and I hope you realize this means you can't complain about me asking your sister out."  
"Wait," Clyde sputters, "Billie? You like Billie?"  
For a second, it looks like Kaley's blushing, but it's gone so quickly he might have imagined it. "I was kind of planning on driving over to your house to ask her out for milkshakes, so if you wouldn't mind getting out of my car---"  
"No, wait," Clyde blurts.  
"Excuse me?"  
"She's not at the house," Clyde explains. "She's at her friend's house doing geometry tutoring. You can probably catch her leaving if you go now." He opens the glove box, pulls out one of the slightly used diner napkins that tend to congregate there, scribbles down the address and hands it to Kaley.  
She smiles at him, her eyes softening. "Thanks, pal." Leaning forward, she kisses his cheek. "Now, get out of my car."  
Clyde obeys this time, and watches her drive away in a cloud of dust, because it feels like a breakup kind of thing to do.  
"Hey, Clyde!"  
He turns, and there's Gene standing next to his car on the other side of the parking lot, one hand raised in greeting. "Need a ride?"  
They drive in companionable, comfortable silence for a minute or two until Gene, not taking his eyes from the road, observes, "There's lipstick on your cheek."  
Clyde laughs, wiping it off. "Goodbye kiss from Kaley." He waits a beat before adding, "We broke up."  
"Sorry, dude," Gene says. "You okay?"  
"Yeah, doin' fine." Clyde shrugs, blasé. "Plenty of fish in the sea, ya know?"  
"Kinda thought you really liked her," Gene replies after a moment, more quietly.  
"Not all that much, I guess," Clyde says. "Not as much as I like--"  
Clyde suddenly realizes that the last word on his lips is you, and even though it freezes there before he can say it, his heart is suddenly thumping as he glances sideways at Gene. Gene with the flipped-up collars and the rosy cheeks and the messy red curls, Gene who's slept at his house every second Friday since sixth grade, Gene who knows every one of his secrets. Gene who is funnier and braver than he thinks and smarter and kinder than he wants anyone to think, Gene who has always been there and has always been, though Clyde is only know consciously realizing it, strangely cute.  
Kaley's voice is suddenly stuck in his head on repeat.  
Your nerd crush  
If you want to date him, do it yourself  
Nerd crush, nerd crush  
Date him yourself, date him, date him...  
"As much as you like who?" Gene asks, and Clyde snaps back to reality.  
"You," he admits, because he's an awful liar, but he quickly adds a "Bros before hoes, right?"  
"I can't believe you just said that," Gene says, and then he's laughing and Clyde's laughing and they nearly drive into a ditch and the whole time something's fluttering in Clyde's chest like a caged bird.

For Connie, it's hard, almost overwhelming. It reminds her of the first punch she ever took: the shock of it, the sudden loss of breath. Only this time, it's not a fist burying itself in her gut, it's a curvy new girl with giant blue eyes and rosebud lips sending a sharp twanging signal straight to her heart. She reminds Connie of the china doll she had when she was little, pretty and fine --- at least until she accidentally broke it during a game of inside footballl. But this girl doesn't look breakable.  
She's not an easy sell, it turns out; neither judiciously applied muscles nor cigarettes nor fancy driving maneuvers get her attention, at least not the right kind of it.  
But when Connie finally earns her name and an invitation to sit with her, it feels better than winning any fight she's ever had. 

For Carla, it's gentle as late afternoon sunshine, the exact kind that's shining when a tall and striking greaser girl walks over to her bench, gives her name and asks if she can sit there. There's cigarette smoke on her clothing and she's got the kind of muscles that come from fighting, often, dirty, and well; but her smile is bashful and kind, and her eyes say she's trying, and the combination makes Carla melt just a little.  
So she says yes, offers her name in return, and pats the space next to her, and when the girl--- Connie--- sits down to occupy it, their shoulders brush, and it sends a satisfying little shiver through Carla, like lemonade on a hot day. A quick glance at Connie's face reveals she felt it too, and Carla smiles to herself. Maybe there's more to this greaser than shows on the surface.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I can't write about things that happened in canon and I really like Kaley, thus accounting for disparate lengths of sections.


End file.
